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shiveringgroovy · 1 month

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PART 3 HC ASKS

WHAT KIND OF COMPUTER DOES EVERYONE USE ipads/tablets are allowed im extending this to like phones and stuff i've just decided

errrm HEHEHE !! gonna do my favs for this :3

Sheogorath

not a big computer guy. probably has a fuckass nokia phone and has hit computers with golf clubs before.

haskill gives him a tablet to watch shitty youtube videos on

i know he fucks with really bad yt shorts

probably invented them tbh

Atsushi

has a phone and that's about it

uses agency computers for work and kinda hates operating them (they also kinda suck so yk)

Sotha Sil

INSANELY FAST RUNNING SETUP

like 500 monitors and LEDs and a see-through tower and a fucking gaming chair

blender king

probably built it all himself

he's insane

the electric bill is through the roof.

Fyodor (i actually despise him but it's funny)

so he canonically has the worst most diabolical evil fucked up setup known to MAN please get him to touch some grass i'm begging you

freaky ass medieval peasant that introduced HIMSELF to goreshit

discord is running somewhere there. trust me

Relmyna Verenim (did you guys know i like her)

also has multiple monitors, not as many as sil but yk

probably runs like super slow and she has to resist the urge to snap her monitors in half every time she tries to open up any program

minecraft girlie (i also hc her as trans she's very loser scientist transfem coded)

she spends most of her time in the field but she likes her computers to write down her stuff

Yosano

has a tablet and a phone

uses them sparingly, but talks to ranpo a lot over texts

Vivec

has the newest phone models. always buys them instantly.

they're a prick

probably has a fucking typewriter rather than a computer because he's pretentious

Ranpo

has a tablet and a phone, uses them much more often than yosano

he seems like he prefers to read on screens than books imo

it also makes more sense, he doesn't like carrying a bunch of stuff around so having a tablet would be convenient

will text people while sitting directly across from them

Dagoth Ur/Voryn Dagoth

has a flip phone and that's it

Jouno

bc he's blind, he's not a fan of technology all that much, but uses screen readers and speaks to type.

more of a phone guy!!

has cut a laptop in half before

Nerevar

doesn't believe in computers

Kenji

also doesn't believe in computers

Lucien Lachance

owns a laptop but never uses it

written mail type of guy

Q/Yumeno

would go apeshit on a tablet.

probably a really big art fan, so really uses them for drawing and games and stuff

someone introduce this kid to a pc with a drawing pad

also loves music, would be the only normal technology user on this list istg

Haskill

owns something for every situation

nothing too fancy tbh

has a home pc, a laptop, a phone, and a tablet

uses them all for his job and has them all labelled and everything

has games on his phone for sheogorath

Ivan Goncharov

it's cause you're always on that damn rock

hates typing with every fiber of his being

smashes shit. has absolutely crushed pushkin's phone before and pushkin almost shot him

uses laptops and pcs out of necessity, uses walkie-talkies for communications because he just likes them

Ocheeva

biggest spreadsheet fan of all time

has a laptop that flips into a tablet

she loves organizing things and presenting them to the rest of the dark brotherhood

they don't listen to the immense power of a girl with a spreadsheet. like fools.

Bram

mp3 player or a phone just for music purposes

pays for every music subscription known to man

last.fm ass bitch

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silusvesuius · 3 months

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Did u play other TES games? Like Obibivion and Morrobing? If u did, whaddya think of waifu Relmyna? OwO

no, i didn't; tbh i don't think i ever will LMAO but i look at them fondly from a distance. && i like her, her hairstyle is cute

#ask

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wispstalk · 4 months

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9 people you'd like to get to know better

tagged by @dirty-bosmer thanks sug it's a slow day at work

3 ships: oh idk i'm in one fandom sooo. i have been thinking about crabigail's dalliances. and whatever tanis and relmyna have going on. oh wait wait Carmy/Sydney/Marcus from the bear.

First ship: i don't even know i don't often get invested in shipping. i do remember reading the His Dark Materials trilogy in middle school and just being DEVASTATED over will and lyra </3

Last song: Machine Guns and Peacock Feathers - Ulver

Last film: Poor Things!! highly recommend but don't judge it by the first twenty minutes.

Currently reading: The Wolf in the Whale - Jordanna Max Brodsky. thanks to the anon who rec'd it... i am enjoying it so far

Currently craving: listen i got a costco membership recently which means I can finally shop somewhere that sells pimento cheese dip in vats. which is great because i'm not fuckin around. it's january and my #1 priority is shoving cheese and carbs in my face every waking second. i did eat a vegetable today tho everybody clap

tagging back some recent mutuals i haven't gotten to know as much. no pressure to fill this out. also hiiii @devil-of-dagoth @morgiah @babyblueetbaemonster @kagrenacs @aanthirin @thescrolls-haveforetold @bthungthumz @banjotea @madam-whim

#hello i'm talkative on here if u don't like being tagged in stuff just lmk #tag games

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renmorris · 11 months

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I keep forgetting relmyna verenim isn’t canonically trans because she talks exactly like this

#shivering isles #relmyna verenim

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kind-of-a-shitty-wizard · 5 months

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hiii i got a little insane over haskills characterization in the other elder scrolls games / material. teehee rambling abt these ^ quotes under the cut (long). also im not that serious abt any of this tbh im just glad haskill appeared in any other elder scrolls material at all LOL

OKAY. okay. about these quotes. idk why other TES media does this, but in these quotes from elder scrolls legends + the interview with haskill it seems like the writers are pushing to give the impression that haskill slightly resents or is even indifferent to his position / the isles / sheogorath ?? (unless haskill is being a little bit more flippant or hyperbolic than usual...?) which is characterization that is NOT what i got from playing oblivion at all skdskdjfn

like... when i played oblivion i thought it was very clear that haskill prefers to be in the isles, serving sheogorath, more than anywhere else. (<- i think this is actually the reason he's technically "mad" even tho he seems sane outwardly. if you enjoy being among madmen it probably means you're mad yourself ykwim). i think haskill does like the isles, his ass is just reserved abt it, like he is about everything... yknow just like jeeves, whose character he's been compared to lmao:)

i think unfortunately some writers take his annoyance with the player and his slight second thoughts about sheogorath's plan in oblivion, and mistakenly assume that he's just annoyed at his whole position. haskill does have his moments of exasperation, but the thing is it's usually only exasperation and it never verges into anger or bitterness or resentment like the top quotes seem to indicate. for example, haskill says this abt his idea of you mantling sheo / the clowns debacle:

^ This quote is a good reference point for haskill's view on sheo bc its pretty much the most critical-of-sheogorath quote from oblivion i can recall, and it tells us a lot of things. in this quote he expresses some exasperation about the clown idea (because he's a prissy bitch who doesn't want to get his outfit dirty /affectionate) and shows some apprehension about one of his lord's ideas (because it involves you, and haskill doesnt like you). but these 2 points he has beef with aren't really reflective of sheo himself but of other issues - ie he doesn't directly question sheogorath. and IN THE END Haskill defers to sheo's judgement because haskill trusts him and values sheo's ideas. in all of his oblivion dialogue, this is the most critical toward sheogorath he gets, and he never outright insults or shows resentment toward him or the isles like in the above quotes bc his loyalty to sheogorath eclipses it

on the contrary (and i dont know why the writers for non-oblivion elder scrolls content dont seem to see this??), theres so much evidence that haskill actually does, you know,,, enjoy being in the isles. here are just some snippets i can think of:

"the isles are hardly a place for anyone, really" <- i BEG to differ, Haskill likes it here, he likes listening to prisoners being tortured in xedillian, he likes wearing his ridiculous frilly high collar outfit emblematic of the fashions of the isles, he doesn't care about morality and it suits him just fine that it doesn't matter here!! (the end quote might be him being a little facetious about relmyna but to be honest i wouldn't be surprised if he thought decency and morality WERE provincial notions because he certainly has no problem killing people lmao). and again, to enjoy doing these things / being around madmen probably says something abt haskill being mad himself. lol

not to mention he likes a bit of joking around. which i imagine sheo does a whole lot. when YOU rib him a little he says this:

his derision in the first bit i think indicates, "i cant believe you would joke around at a time like this," and the upturning of the "very good" i think indicates, "it was a good joke / maybe they could mantle sheo after all". he's not all dour - he appreciates a good joke, especially from (someone who's about to become) his Lord!!

and going a little deeper into haskill actually liking the isles... haskill clearly holds what sheogorath and the isles represent (chaos, free will, individuality) very highly. a good example of this is when you ask him about dyus, and he gives this snarky reply:

^ he says this with such VITRIOL its so funny :p and the amount of disdain in this line indicates (to me) a real conviction in his belief in the free will, chaos etc that sheogorath represents.

this is why i dont think this quote makes sense. "i cant remember why i put up with [sheogorath]" <- haskill wouldnt say this bc he understands fully why he puts up w sheogorath, and his own convictions in sheo that lead him to keep doing it, and even if this quote is him being hyperbolic, i dont think he'd joke about his faith in sheogorath like that because, yk, one of his characteristics is that he's extremely loyal, and moreover he never said anything to this effect in oblivion sdkjskdjs

him having a strong belief in what sheogorath / the isles represent is also evidenced by the language haskill uses when talking about sheo. whenever haskill mentions him, there is an element of poetry and respect to his words that shows that haskill thinks about him highly at the very least:

^ haskill constantly stresses sheogorath's intrinsic unknowableness and power and unique wisdom in a way that feels very respectful. saying "to attempt to fathom [sheogorath's will] is a foolish endeavor" shows that he knows there are unexplainable aspects to sheogorath that he takes note of, respects, and knowingly keeps his distance from... he gets sheogorath and reveres him (at least more than most others or the HoK). in these quotes especially, it feels a bit like hes trying to illustrate how impressive sheogorath is to the HoK, hyping up his boyfriend if you would. who said that. and combined with this respect is (i believe!!!!) a deep care. he is invested in the isles and sheo and wants to help them out of more than just duty. he gets fearful and even loses his composure at some points in the story when sheo/the isles are threatened which i think indicates that he deeply cares for them both!!:

i think this is a care that, combined with the respect he has for sheo, makes it really unlikely for him to get more than exasperated with his behavior and verge into resentfulness. i dont think anyone truly understands sheogorath, not even haskill, but haskill respects sheo as a god, and also gets him in a more familiar/personal way i think - like the way that a cat owner loves their cat but gets exasperated with it when it gets its head stuck in a tissue box. he doesn't angry or anything because he understands that it's the cat's nature to get stuck in the tissue box / sheo's nature to be wild and unpredictable and messy. (the difference being that sheogorath is an all-powerful god cat..... do u see my vision???)

anyway this got crazy long JHDSHFSD... to finish i wanted to look at this extra bit of characterization i found that was wild to me:

^ like. i truly dont get where they got THIS characterization LMAO sheo constantly calls haskill faithful and smart and knowledgeable in oblivion, he practically begs you to summon haskill for help, hyping up his boyfriend so to speak, they care for each other your honor so of COURSE sheo trusts haskill to do his job. what are the legends writers doing in there!!

ANYWAY dear god this got long im going to bed <3

#rambles into the void #haskill #tes #this is all lighthearted by the way just my interpretation of the dialogue #if anyone else has thoughts abt this then be my guest to disagree <3 love to talk abt him #and honestly im just glad he appeared in legends at all..... like that card art??? im still bonkers about his card art #does this all make any sense!! lmao #i just think its more interesting if haskill is a snarky person but only to people he doesn't like. which is the case (i think) in oblivion #i think these lines are a l m o s t there but misdirect his snarkiness... that mans loyal as hell i dont think hed talk like that...#i mean why would he stick around sheo if he didnt at least respect him and enjoy the silly things he does. this man voluntarily puts #on a bright red foot-tall collar every day do you think he wouldnt appreciate a little silliness!! SKDJSD #and it fits with why he'd be in the isles even if he doesnt look mad #the first thing i thought when i realized he was outwardly 'sane' was 'oh but he likes being around 'mad' people therefore insane'... ykwim #i cant believe how well developed he is actually. haskill my beloved. i love your 400+ lines of dialogue haskill

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babyblueetbaemonster · 2 years

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Hi! I don't really have a question. I just wanted to share a little piece of info I thought up;

Take whatever the Tang Mo are meant to look like, but more humanoid, give them the pride of dragons, a giant were-Imga ability, give some of them the genius of the Dwemer, and give them a buff stack racial ability. You just created a Saiyan

I think Relmyna Verenim would love that, or maybe Hircine.

#ask and i shall answer #I actually don't know enough lore to understand what you're talking about #but I'm sure she understand :D #tes #the elder scrolls #oblivion #shivering isles #Relmyna Verenim

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larkscribbles · 1 year

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How To Break The News

[AO3] Words: 1369

Relmyna Verenim has been distraught since the Greymarch, abandoned by her Lord. The sudden appearance of Sheograth’s champion “for a chat” days later is just a further irritation. The universe would be cruel to throw anything else unexpected at her.

Relmyna Verenim was startled by the knock at her door. Few in the Shivering Isles remembered to knock. Fewer still knew of her laboratory in the ruins of Xaselm. The knock was far too forceful to be her apprentice. The dunmer pursed her lips. The Greymarch had ended, surely her beloved Sheogorath would return soon. He would knock. The madwoman sucked in a lungful of stale air before opening the door.

Sheogorath’s champion.

Relmyna deflated.

There was something off about the sudden appearance that encouraged the mage to withhold her usual tone. There was, in her mind, little reason for this visit.

“What do you want?” There was a conscious effort to keep her voice neutral as opposed to irritated.

The armoured woman hovered in the doorway, expression concealed behind her helm.

“To talk.”

The inclination of the champion’s voice seemed to hint at something else; an expectation of different response. Upon their first and subsequent meetings Relmyna had quickly discovered the champion was never adept at hiding her motives or emotions. No, Avery was a very simple woman. A warrior (barely a spellsword) and nothing more.

“About?” Relmyna prodded, raising both eyebrows.

“May I come in?” The imperial’s tone lacked its usual rumble. A gauntlet was waved in the general direction of a chair. This, once again, surprised the sorceress. She had never seen this level of etiquette before. She half obliged out of surprise. This was rehearsed, surely. Avery took a seat, removed her helmet with a clank, then stared at Relmyna. Eyes narrowed. Lips pursed. One could practically hear the gears whirring in her head. Perhaps not so rehearsed. Her hostess watched, exasperation growing by the second. The women both opened their mouths to speak at the same time. The warrior finally took the initiative, swallowing thickly.

“I need to tell you something. Potentially…” she faltered, suddenly losing her focus quickly, brow furrowing. “… What is that?”

Relmyna humoured the question, fighting down the fury bubbling inside her. This entire endeavour felt childish, stupid, the champion had visited her laboratory before. She knew of its contents. What was the point of this? The woman could scarcely act, she was certainly feigning something. Her red eyes flicked to the skinned hound on her operating table, then up to her shelf of alchemical supplies, then-

The dunmer paused as her ears picked up the distinct noise of scrambling and a rustle of fur. She turned sharply on her heel. For a fleeting second her first impulse was to laugh, this was quickly overcome with white hot rage.

“Are you mocking me?!” The sorceress nearly screamed, teeth bared, red eyes boring holes into the champion.

“No, not at all.” Her voice had returned to its usual monotone, face showing little emotion. Avery sat in the seat exactly the same as before.

The only thing new was the beard.

The shoddily constructed fake beard was misaligned on her face from the rush of putting it on. The same sickly shade of purple as her hair. Darker in patches due to whatever crude adhesive it had been stuck together with. Apparently somehow it had been hidden within the depths of her armour. What was Relmyna to think of this? What was the point of such a ploy?

“Humour me.” Her voice dropped low, before bouncing up to a mock conversational tone. Frankly, given the woman’s usual behaviour, it was unsettling. “How do you like my beard?”

“Your fake beard?”

Avery rolled her eyes and waved a hand. “Ok, but functionally it’s a beard. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“Many things.”

“Any… laws?”

“Even attempting the growth of a beard is deemed unseemly by law,” The sorceress spat, knowing she was being directed towards some enigmatic point, but not what it was. She did not appreciate the feeling of being herded like a sheep. She narrowed her eyes, adding patronisingly “By unseemly I mean punishable by death.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. But, regardless, that’s not a problem for me.” Her tone was practiced, dismissive, almost bored.

“How are you above the law?!”

“Sheogorath has a beard and it’s fine.”

This was the final straw. The outrage brings crackling magic to her fingertips. The instigator doesn’t flinch. This angers her more. She SHOULD. She should fear what my wrath can bring. The outburst comes as a torrent of words.

“You dare? You fetcher! You s’wit! You think you can just…! Mock our lord like this? Is this what it’s about?! Just because of an absence you- you- what do you want me to say?! Our Lord isn’t coming back? He won’t punish you because He abandoned us? He HAD a beard?!” Relmyna’s voice cracked with a rage. She felt wetness on her cheeks. By the Madgod she was crying. Damn it. “I won’t stand for this! You’ll pay for this! I’ll- I’ll-”

The Champion did not shrink into herself but seemed aware of the severity of the outburst, a flicker of sympathy crossed her face. Crying. Not good. Relmyna did not cry about much. Her lips pursed as she smoothed the beard. She let out a small sigh and then spoke once more, voice soft.

“Has a beard.”

Slowly, her hand raised.

“It’s not a real one…”

The champion simply pointed to herself.

The sorceress’ chest heaved, so taken aback she was at a loss for words. She blinked fervently, scanning her guest’s face through her veil of tears for… something. Anything. A hint that it was a cruel joke. But unfortunately for her, she knew Avery was too blunt to be this cruel and frankly too stupid to make a decent joke in the first place.

The warrior fiddled with the neckpiece of her cuirass, averting her eyes. There was silence save the scrape of gauntlet against the metal. After some struggle, she allowed the familiar ornate collar of purple finery poke over her armour. Her voice terse when she finally spoke, bitterness permeating every word. “You don’t defeat a Daedric Prince in combat as… just … no matter how hard you want to.”

Relmyna felt faint. This was hysterical. No it wasn’t- this was horrible- The room was closing in on her, she could feel it forcing the air from her lungs. The colour drained from her face. She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, gulping wetly whilst trying to find words. But what? What could she say? What could she do?

“Have you always been Sheogorath?”

“No.”

“How? For how long?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how this works.”

An uneasy blanket of silence settled.

“Some people could tell. I couldn’t tell- didn’t feel any different- the guards knew immediately. Haskill said you might not know and-” Avery itched the side of her face, removing the beard as there was no longer any need for it. “I’m not very good with- I was- Haskill advised against the… beard. But I didn’t know how else to- you wouldn’t have believed me if I’d just-“

She let the words hang in the air as she met Relmyna’s eyes, hoping for some glimmer of understanding. Everything spewing forth from her mouth was a mess, even with the enchanted doublet on which was supposed to help. Wordlessly, the dunmer plucked the beard from her hands and observed it, contemplative.

“This is disgusting. Your own hair-“ The sorceress scoffed as she tried to remove the clumps now adhered to her fingers.

“I didn’t have anything else to use. Not like Haskill had any to spare.”

A pause. The dark elf made a noise between laughing and crying, then steadied her breathing. “This was your idea? You really have gone mad.”

Avery shuffled in response, brow furrowed. Before she could open her mouth, Relmyna interjected. “Tell Haskill I liked the beard. That it was a masterful way of telling me. I don’t truly think that, I just want to spite him. I hate that old fool.” She smiled thinly, voice shaky.

Avery tutted, a ghost of a smirk on her face. “He’s only doing his job - giving me advice I won’t take.”

“That’s at least one constant of Sheogorath.”

The Daedric Prince’s expression faltered, settling on resignation. “I suppose it is.”

#Larkscrawls #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #elder scrolls #oblivion #shivering isles #larkscribblesoc #Relmyna Verenim #tes #oc #hok!sheo

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nine-blessed-hero · 2 years

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A Restless Pillow (Begets No Rest)

Universe: TESIV: Oblivion CW: Implied sexytimes - a bit of heavy petting, nothing outright explicit; Minor swearing; Implied BDSM. Words: 1645 Context: Last year sometime I had a conversation about the numerous scripted events (+1 quest I was unlucky with, apparently) that wake the PC and probably make them a twitchy, insomniac mess. This premise been languishing in my Ideas folder, and I finally had inspiration to do something with it. The two parts can be read as one story, or two which riff off the same idea. Tagging: @elf-trash (IDK if you remember or care; but you expressed interest in this), @mishkakagehishka @strosmkai-rum @arcane-elder-scrolls @bread-of-death Also available on AO3

Part I

Sickly pale moonlight spills through the high arches of the forge windows. It's warm enough, with the blanket around xir feet and the banked embers behind. A candle stands on the face of the anvil, the warm light enough to read by. The Third Door droops in xir hand, nearly enough to help xir doze off.

A figure ghosts through the door. "Darkest delight, why do you sit on my cold forge floor when you could be above, encompassed in velvet and me?" Rowan languidly turns to admire the sallow figure. A sheet is draped carelessly around narrow shoulders, barely hiding a small bust and dainty body. Rowan says nothing, but grins, showing teeth. "No, my sanguine thorn," the woman continues, gliding over the floor on soundless feet, "it is not enough to stare like a hungry beast." She crouches down, tucking a finger under Rowan's chin. "I want my answer, darkest delight." This close, Rowan can't help but lean forward, intending to take possession of those voluptuous lips, but the woman pulls back. "Ah, no. I think not."

Rowan drops the book xe has not been reading and pulls the woman onto xir lap, running a hand down her face. "Sweet Cutter," xe croons. "I wanted to read but not wake you." Cutter picks up the book, reads the title and scoffs. "Romance… You expect me to believe you would willingly read this tripe?" "I have eclectic tastes. But, Sweetness, since you are awake," Rowan drawls, hands sneaking between the folds of the sheet, "there are different tastes I'd like to indulge-" The book hits Rowan hard on the chest.

"Don't lie to me." Each word is a sibilant hiss, and Cutter is on her knees, the end of a pair of callipers digging into Rowan's neck. "I don't see you for months, then you slither into my bed in the dead of night like a baliwog pup. Only then, to toss and turn like one of Relmyna's victims. And now I find you curled like a dog on the floor of my shop." The point of the callipers is dragged around, resting against the hollow of Rowan's neck. "You will tell me why, my dark delight." Rowan swallows carefully. "Bolwing was yelling outside." Cutter's face creases darkly. The calliper's point slides higher on Rowan's throat. "It's the truth, Cutter." Rowan's eyes flick away, to the fallen book. "The Isles were the only place I've been able to rest. Not so any longer, it seems." "A pathetic excuse. Perhaps I shall test my blades on you from now on."

Rowan's hand moves faster than the eye can follow. The callipers clatter against the armour display. Cutter is on her back, red blotches forming under Rowan's fingers on her chin. "I shall explain myself, then, in terms you can understand," Rowan growls. "Imagine: you wake, and there is a stranger in your bedroom. The first time, it's only to talk. How do you sleep the next night? The night after? How do you sleep the second time, when a stranger has come to kill you? What about the fifth, the sixth time?" If she's frightened, Cutter doesn't show it. She trails a hand down Rowan's arm to pry up the finger closest to her mouth and slips it between her overripe lips. Rowan makes a noise, deep in xir throat. Xir supporting arm gives way, and xe rolls to the side. Cutter pulls herself on top. "Well," she purrs, "since you put it like that, perhaps there is a way I can help you sleep."

Part II

"I had the most interesting conversation just now." Rowan stands at the desk in the library of Cloud Ruler Temple. A cool breeze follows at the heels of xir liege-lord, as he sweeps up beside xir. Xe says nothing, concentrating instead on pounding Ironwood nuts to the correct consistency. Already on the desk is a marinating kompot of Green Stain Shelf Cap and Water Hyacinth Nectar. Undeterred by xir silence, he continues, "Our venerant Bladesmaster is under the apprehension that I have some means of control over you which he does not, and has asked me to intercede on his behalf-" "I already moved my bedroll out of the armoury." The sound of crunching nuts fills the space. "May I enquire why it was in there in the first place?" "Bruma," Rowan says, setting the pestle down, "is colder than a tax collector's arsehole. I just wanted to sleep someplace where I didn't need the Temple's supply of blankets to feel warm." The pestle is forcefully returned to the mortar. "Didn't realise Ferrum was gonna get so territorial." "If it's that much of a problem, why not sleep next to the fire in the great hall?" "And be woken up every five by a patrol? Roliand stamps hard enough to wake the dead." Rowan shakes the mortar, examining the grounds. "Well then sleep in my room." "What!" The mortar slips from Rowan's grip and clangs on the floor, the nuts spilling out. "B'vek. Those were expensive." Xe waves Martin away as xe stoops to save what xe can. "I am absolutely not sleeping in your room." "It's plenty warm and there's enough space…" "I said no, Martin. It's a bad idea."

The heir laces his fingers together as Rowan carefully pours the salvaged ironwood nuts, the kompot of mushrooms and nectar, and a few drops of a dusky purple liquid into the cucurbit of an alembic. As Rowan assembles the rest of the alembic, Martin picks up the bottle of purple liquid and, unstoppered, wafts the vapours towards his nose. "Pre-distilled alkanet flower… Interesting." Martin waits until the burner is lit and Rowan has stopped fussing before he cautiously posits, "This contention over where to sleep doesn't have anything to do with the soporific draught you're concocting, does it?" Rowan scoffs. "This isn't a draught, this is a poison." Martin hums, an unhappy descending tone. "I know we've not known each other long, but I do believe this is the first time you've told me such a bare-faced lie." He gestures at the bench. "You forget who you are speaking to. The low ingredient quantities, the distillate, the lack of clarified fats – you're not making a poisoned weapon salve. You're making a tincture."

Rowan crosses xir arms, gaze turned on xir alchemy. "It's nothing to concern you." Now Martin scoffs. "I rather think it is. If you're unwell–" "I'm fine." "–And I would appreciate it, if you stopped lying to me." Rowan glares at the burner in mulish silence. "It wasn't so long ago you told me that we'd fail if we weren't cohesive. That we needed to be mindful of each other to work as a unit." Martin steps forward, cupping Rowan's elbow and shoulder. "I need you to talk to me. Rowan, I need my champion to be well. If there's something lacking… Gods' teeth, I will beg if that's what it takes." "Something lacking?" Rowan snaps, shaking him off. "The world is ending, if you hadn't noticed. 'Something lacking'… I can't close them all! For every gate I shut, three more spring up." Rowan presses xir hands against xir eyes briefly. "There's too few muttonheads with the skill for gate-closing and I can't be everywhere at once, is what's lacking." "And the sleep tincture?" "Take a wild fucking guess!" Rowan violently waves a single finger. "One night! That's all I want. Seven hours of solid sleep, where I'm not woken by malevolent spirits, or attempted murderers, or people foisting their creepy cults on me. One night of peace, and quiet, and no dreams." Xe sags, eyes wet. "I just want some sleep."

Martin quickly schools his expression of alarm into something kindly but firm. "I see. Very well. Since you won't take my room, I'll speak to Jauffre and Ferrum again. And to Baragon." "Baragon-? I don't need a minder while I sleep." "Yes, you do. Few as they are, you've still used potent ingredients for your tincture. Set the dosage too high and you'll never wake up. If you don't want Baragon to do it, then I shall. And don't whine." This last comes out low – the silk-rasp of a blade half drawn from its sheath. Even exhaustion-addled as xe is, Rowan knows when xe's pushing the limits of Martin's patience. Xe scrubs xir eyes. "Fine."

Martin nods and moves to the chair in the corner, settling himself in. "I'd like to know more about these mid-night incursions." "Trust me, you don't." "How many times have you been woken by a cult-foister?" Rowan sighs and looks to the ceiling, mentally tallying them. "Twice." "I see. The spirits?" "Just the once. I think." "And the… murderers?" "Twice? No – thrice. If you count the time with the pirates." Rowan gives a tired laugh. "Heroeing ain't easy, Marty." The potion bubbles as Martin digests this. "You are busy out there, aren't you." "Run ragged."

Another declinate hum, gentler than before. "You and I, my dear Champion, should talk more about your toings and froings. I can't help with what I don't know." "You've got your own problems. You don't need mine too." "Maybe so. But you are the one who told me to stop hiding them. And half the Temple, as I recall. Don't hide yours. Rowan," he reaches for xir hand. "I won't let this destroy you." Rowan scrubs a hand over xir face again and gives a defeated sigh. "What do you want to know?" Martin squeezes xir hand. "Tell me about the spirits." Rowan gives a half smile. "Ah… That's a funny story, actually. So I met this guy in a pub, trying to sell his grandfather's manor…" Martin settles back, listening to his Champion weave xir tale, underpinned by the chuckling of the potion, and considers that, just maybe, everything will turn out alright.

#writing #martin septim #hero of kvatch #Cutter (oblivion)#TESFic #oblivion fanfiction #oblivion fanfic #tes oblivion #The Elder Scrolls #oc rowan #wandering words #I'm not sure how to CW for the thing with Cutter - Please ask to tag #Cutter is remarkably fun to write for just so lacking in anything I can loop into a plot element

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